Warrior

Somervile nodded. 'A capital fellow, too, as I recall.'

'I was half minded to have one of the serjeants stand the duty, but if we are to take to the field I want a head such as Collins's with me.'

Somervile placed his hands together, as if to beg indulgence. 'It is not my business, but I might add that Serjeant Wainwright's conduct was as noble as the serjeant-major's.'

'So I read in your letter, and so I would have expected. Were he not so junior a serjeant, and were the troop to remain in its lines until we sail for home, I would give him the fourth stripes for the duration.'

A bearer brought coffee.

'Something fortifying to accompany it?' asked Somervile, glancing at one and then the other.

Hervey certainly felt the need of fortification, but he had resolved to face Armstrong with a clear mind and clear breath. He shook his head.

Fairbrother nodded to the offer of Cape brandy.

Hervey composed himself. 'What must I needs know this minute about your intentions for the frontier?' he asked, taking a good sip of his coffee before resting the cup and saucer in his lap. 'I would give preparatory orders to Brereton and Collins. It will be best that the troop is active as may be when Armstrong takes his leave of them.'

Somervile sighed heavily. 'Ye-es; Brereton.'

Hervey's brow furrowed.

'Forgive my civilian interference, Hervey, but it is my opinion that the peril which beset us at the frontier was the direct consequence of Brereton's incapability. And, I might add, his conduct in the face of the Xhosa stands poorly in comparison with Armstrong's and Wainwright's.'

If Hervey had had the least indignation at 'civilian interference' it was wholly dispelled by the knowledge of Somervile's own zeal in the field. His friend wore the same ribbon at his neck as he, and for deeds with sword and pistol, if twenty years ago. If his deeds frequently showed more impetuosity than true capability, it scarcely mattered here.

He glanced at Fairbrother, a touch uneasily, for this was regimental business of the most intimate kind. 'Are you saying that he wants courage?'

Somervile hesitated before replying. 'No, I am not. I saw nothing that could be construed only as want of courage.'

'It is true that he wants for experience. He himself was eager to come to the Cape to remedy that.'

'I believe I made due allowance on account of that. It is merely that . . . judgement is not exclusively a matter of experience. I fear that his instinct is faulty.'

Hervey raised his eyebrows, and sighed in his turn before draining his coffee cup. 'I shall observe him carefully. And speak to him. And to Armstrong.'

Somervile finished his brandy and held up his hands. 'It is, as I believe I have made clear, entirely your business, Hervey. I make no formal complaint.'

'Thank you.' Hervey laid aside his cup and saucer, and made as if to rise. 'And by way of a preparatory order?'

Somervile nodded. 'Very well. We leave for Port Natal in five days' time. There is the Reliant transport at hand, and a towsteamer making repairs. Are you able to furnish fifty sabres?'

Hervey rose. 'I cannot say, for I have not been to the lines yet. But I should be dismayed if we could not. The Reliant is evidently big enough?'

'Serjeant-Major Armstrong believes so.'

'Then you may believe it.'

Somervile now rose. 'Dine with us this evening, Hervey. And you, Captain Fairbrother.'

'Thank you,' said Hervey, taking up his cap. 'But . . . May I first see what Armstrong wishes?'

Somervile frowned at his own insensibility. 'Of course, of course.'

The lieutenant-governor had bid one of his dogcarts come for them, and Hervey quit the Castle of Good Hope directly for E Troop lines, taking Fairbrother en route to his quarters near the Company's gardens. They made arrangements for the evening, and then Hervey steeled himself to his duty.

He had not had to do its like before. After Waterloo he had travelled to Norfolk to condole with the widow of his former troop leader, and lately commanding officer, Major Joseph Edmonds; and thence to Suffolk to give an account of the heroic death of his serjeant-escort, Strange, to his widow. But both women had known already of their loss. Some weeks indeed had elapsed between receipt of the news and his visiting, so that there was some measure of joy in being able to recount happy memories (and in the case of Mrs Strange he had been able to arrange for her to take charge of his father's school, a position she held still).

The lines were all activity when he arrived. It was late morning, the horses had been exercised, and the hour before the second feed was a time of making and mending. Hervey noted the improvements in the appearance of the lines, and not merely the new application of paint: the roofs were now well thatched, both barrack and stable, and the water troughs served by pipes rather than buckets. He would at least be able to commend Captain Brereton for his address in administration, though he had no doubt that the improvements would have been chiefly by Armstrong's efforts.

The picket corporal came doubling as the dogcart drew up. 'G'mornin, Col 'Ervey, sir!' he yapped as he halted at attention and jerked his right hand to the salute. 'Trust you's well, now, sir.'

Hervey smiled. Sad duty or no, it was therapeutic to be back with dragoons, especially dragoons under his orders. 'Wholly restored, Corporal Battle. But more to the point, how is E Troop?'